


Poor Man, Rich Tastes

by LilyAngorian



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: And it looks like Freddie prefers to work on his back, Birmingham has got a lot of brothels, But only a few cater to Tommy's real tastes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 20:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAngorian/pseuds/LilyAngorian
Summary: Old friends keep a lot of secrets, but some things can't be denied, and besides, Tommy has a habit of visiting whores.





	Poor Man, Rich Tastes

It was an act usually reserved for back alleys and black rooms, but there were more upmarket places that Birmingham offered if you knew where to look. And Tommy knew every fucking inch of the place. If you paid enough, if you knew how to get there unnoticed, if you had the sheer nerve to walk over the threshold, you could fuck the same as in any other whorehouse. It was a secret hidden in plain sight, something that could ruin any lesser man. But Tommy had a gaze of steel, and aways brought the promise of fire and blood, so he faced no limits, no threat of blackmail. No man would dare.

The fight had fucked Freddie into submission, pulled his flesh apart and forced itself into him like a disease. War wounds were nothing compared to the scars behind his eyes. He’d lost his youthful padding, shoulders and ribs taut against his skin, face unshaven and skin weeping whiskey. The first time Tommy had seen him there, lounging in one of the chairs, he’d barely recognised him. It felt wrong seeing him like that, without the mud and sweat caking him, without the fear in his eyes. 

No fear. That had Tommy’s cock twitching, trying and failing to cut through the attitude. He’d taken his hand, followed him to a back room. As the door shut behind them, he’d walked Freddie around the room, backing him into any hard surface, forcing the gap between them to close. But the younger man was unfazed, head tilting and tongue dipping to wet his lips. His eyes were sparkling with enjoyment, his hands tugging at Tommy’s waist and arse. But tradition had Tommy batting his hands free, so used to taking what he wanted, so taken aback by real confidence in a whore. Was it men, or was it just Freddie?

“I wondered when you’d show up.”

“I hadn’t realised this is what you were doing now.”

“Nor I you.”

Tommy brought a hand up to his throat, forcing his head back against the wall as he ran his thumb over Freddie’s curled lips. 

“A little more respect I think.”

“Sorry...sir.”

That had Tommy’s trousers tightening once more, but even as he enjoyed the words Freddie was preparing his next jibe.

“I forgot I was supposed to thank God for your cock. Most of the men who come in here don’t have such royal status.”

“You should count yourself lucky it’s me paying you tonight Freddie. Not some sick, old man with a thing for the broken ones.”

“It’s true you’ve got age on your side. Beyond that though, I don’t see much difference. We’re all sick here, as far as anyone else is concerned.”

“I get the impression you like that. Always did want to be the underdog.”

Freddie palmed him through the fabric of his trousers, smile faintly strained now, clearly losing his patience. 

“Why don’t you just get on and fuck me Tommy. I might be able to fit in some trade after you.”

“No you won’t. I get you all night.”

Before Freddie had a chance to reply, Tommy pressed his mouth against that smile. Kissing had always been a comfort in France, more even than the fucking. Spasms over another mans curled back reminded you that you were alive, but kissing kept you warm, reminded you of what real affection would be waiting for you beyond the scorched and bloodied earth of foreign shores. 

“Greedy as ever.” Freddie gasped into his mouth.

Freddie certainly kissed like a whore, he’d clearly developed his techniques with the men who’d opened this door before Tommy. It was too wanton, too wet and coldly ineffectual. Tommy took control, slowing the pace, cupping Freddie’s face with a tenderness he didn’t normally employ in brothels. When the younger man settled into it, mimicking the softness, Tommy allowed himself to lose some restraint. The kiss remained passionate, but took on a hunger and need that elicited moans and groping hands. When their lips broke apart, they both looked as desperate as each-other, hair damp and curling, eyes burning.

“So I’m broken enough for you then?” Freddie mouthed into his neck

“You’ll have to do.”

They pulled clothes aside, tearing things up and down, tangled in each other. The feeling of Freddie’s chest flush with his own, bones jutting against him, left Tommy clawing at his back. They bit and dug their fingers into each other, pulling hair and bruising skin. Writhing against the floor with ragged breath and a breaking heart, Tommy came moments before the younger man, their mess disregarded as their lips locked once more. That sweet warmth of a kiss, the intimacy Tommy couldn’t get from any other whore. 

It could have been hours they spent lying there, clothes and sheets scattered across the floor, basking in their achievements. When Tommy finally tore himself free, he dressed leisurely, unable to take his eyes off Freddie as he pulled and buttoned. Freddie lay with his legs open obscenely, arms crossed behind his head, his stomach still damp with their enjoyment. Tommy reached into his jacket pocket and removed the notes, the moment tinging the scene with a certain distaste, but Freddie broke through his flickering guilt with an indignant cry.

“That’s it?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows as Freddie stood up, but he was hardly surprised. 

“Not enough for you? What happened to wealth being dirty?”

“I charge what I know men can afford. And that doesn’t come close to what you can Tommy.”

He stood naked in-front of the dressed man, arms crossed even as his eyes glinted with humour. 

“Besides, I think this counts as being dirty enough as it is."

“Ethical prostitution is it?”

“You could say that.”

Tommy drew close to him, mouth nipping his earlobe as he whispered. 

“Well if I waste all my money now, I’ll have nothing to bring you the next time I visit.”

“The next time?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Someone's eager. If you’re not careful, I might get too much of a taste for you.”

“Trust me Freddie, from now on, you’ll never want it from anyone else."


End file.
